


Fine

by mithrel



Series: In Memoriam [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blanket Permission, Gen, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-18
Updated: 2011-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-27 12:11:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/295723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scrimgeour's final hours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fine

When Scrimgeour wakes up, he’s completely disorientated. He’s no longer in the Ministry—this place doesn’t look like anywhere he’s seen before. It’s a long, low, windowless room, with guttering torches on the walls. As he sits up, Scrimgeour feels the ache that comes from being Stunned.

He drags himself over to the stone door, which is locked. It’s then he realises that his wand is gone, and he really starts to panic. It makes sense, after all. They wouldn’t want to leave him with a weapon. He slumps against the wall, and waits.

He must have fallen asleep, because he wakes up to the sound of the door opening. A cloaked and hooded Death Eater enters. Now it begins.

The Death Eater lazily takes out his wand and points it at Scrimgeour. “As I’m sure you are aware by now, the Dark Lord is in control of the Ministry.”

Scrimgeour doesn’t respond.

“We will soon have taken over everywhere; it will go easier on you if you cooperate.”

He remains stubbornly silent. He will not give them what they want.

The Death Eater smiled, cruelly. “Well, then…perhaps a little… _persuasion_ …”

“ _Crucio._ ” He had expected it, but all the same, there was no way to prepare for something like that. White hot knives are slashing at his bones, his joints are being pulled apart, and his blood has turned to acid. It only lasts a moment, but he is panting and whimpering by the time it stops.

“Oh, silly me, I haven’t told you what we want…”

Huddled on the floor, he is nonetheless defiant: “I don’t care. You won’t get any information from me.”

The Death Eater ignores him. “What the Dark Lord needs to know is this… _Where is Harry Potter?_ ”

Scrimgeour has no liking for the boy, but if the tales are true, he is the only one who has a chance to stop You-Know-Who. Even if that weren’t the case, he would not turn the boy over to be tortured and killed. Not to save his own skin.

“I don’t know.”

“You _lie!_ ” Scrimgeour is abruptly slammed against a wall by an unseen force. There is a sickening snap as his arm breaks in two, and a burning pain spreads through his body. No matter. As a former Auror, he is no stranger to pain, and this is ordinary pain, not the magical pain of the Cruciatus Curse. He will not talk.

“ _Where is Harry Potter?_ ”

“I don’t _know!_ ” He will not give the boy up. There are others, others at the Burrow, who would be punished for hiding the boy. He must not break.

He loses track of the curses cast on him– _Crucio, Sectumsempra...Defodio_? _That’s creative…_ he thinks, with the small part of his brain that wasn’t screaming in agony. The Death Eater is shouting something at him, he can’t make it out. More questions, probably. He can’t answer them anyway, he’s too busy screaming.

Then something seems to _snap_ in his head. He’s able to think clearly again. He still feels the pain, but at a distance, as if he’s been given a painkilling potion. His vision is turning red, and narrowing, and he realizes he’s dying. As it fades to black, his last thought is _At least the boy is safe._


End file.
